“What’s the matter? You didn’t get an invite to the big party?” I ask. “You have to sneak in the back like a commoner?”
Sergey’s hands tighten on the steering wheel. “Shut your f*****g w***e mouth.”
I jolt at the venom in his voice. I’m used to Sergey being the sly, smiling conman. The kind of snake charmer who will shake your hand as he empties your pockets.
But he is rigid now, his expression bleak as his eyes search the dark alley.
It hits me all at once: he’s nervous.
“Are we here to meet someone?” I look out the windshield, seeing monsters in every shadow.
Suddenly, at the end of the alley, a light flickers on and off.
Sergey hits the gas and drives down to the end of the alley. As soon as he stops the car, a door opens.
I’m staring into the black mouth of the door, trying to
